


Regenerate

by Walker_August



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Healing, Magic, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), fair warning I'm new to The Witcher and this may be a mish mash of book and game Geralt sorry, unusual powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 18:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18124643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker_August/pseuds/Walker_August
Summary: Geralt visits an old flame with an unusual power





	Regenerate

Two sharp knocks and the door swings open. He isn’t sure how he got here, barely remembers the journey but he can already feel some thrum of warmth pulsing through him as he silently passes through the door into the dimly lit room inside.

“Witcher. I wondered if I might see you again” comes a woman's voice, soft and unsurprised. If anything she sounds pleased to see him, and that is something the man is not used to these days. 

“Verra” Geralt’s deep voice mutters her name as she rises from the chair to his left and meets him in the middle of the room, helping him remove the black coat and unbuckle the strap on his shoulder so he can place down the heavy sword on his back. He turns away and quickly falls in to the plush armchair she had just risen from.

“It feels good to sit on something other than a saddle” he groans out as his head falls back. Squeezing his eyes shut, he lets out a long breath.

“Welcome back, Geralt. Gods, you’re exhausted. Let me tend to you” Verra entreats softly, and when he nods slowly she moves back towards him and leans over him to place two fingertips to his temples. His features soften somewhat when she does this, and he turns his head slightly to press his lips to her wrist before moving back to look up at her.

“Good to see you” he murmurs, sincere, unable to say much more for now. The woman simply shushes him and smiles down at him before turning back to the task at hand.

Geralt is exhausted. He’s been riding for almost two days straight, bloodied and aching from completing his latest contract. He may heal quickly, but even witchers get tired and the alderman who had paid him had been thankful but unwilling to allow a witcher to lodge in his township any longer than it took to slay the beast. They were afraid of him, people always were. It wearied Geralt but it didn’t surprise him. He was, to many, the lesser of two evils...but still an evil. 

But he didn’t want to think of that right now, instead focusing on the woman in front of him.

Finding Verra was a challenge in itself; the simple wooden cabin lay in a clearing deep in the forest, but some sorcery in the clearing caused the mind to struggle, something akin to a light fog forming in the brain to cause confusion. You had to really need to see Verra to get past it. Geralt needed her.

He regards her now, as her fingers brush from his temples up through his white hair. Her eyes are closed as she focuses on him, familiarising herself with his mind once more, but beneath the lids lie bewitching emerald green eyes that can’t be forgotten in a hurry – her most striking feature, by all accounts the rest of her is quite plain but he never sees her that way. Her tawny beige skin has an almost golden glow to it, reminding him of first light on an autumn morning, and her dusky pink lips are slightly parted as she concentrates.

Verra isn’t a sorceress, she can’t create a glamour to appear a certain way – although he believes she wouldn’t even if she could – Verra doesn’t need the illusion of beauty, because the constant hum of life about her is what makes her so intriguing and intoxicating, causes travellers to make pilgrimage to her. Her true beauty lies in her power and her kind nature. Geralt had thought she was some sort of siren at first, because he was drawn to her without ever meaning to be. He was wary of her, the first time he found himself at her door with barely any clue how he got there. And then he saw her and felt her and understood, she was an ordinary human with an extraordinary and unprecedented power.

“Come, Geralt. And tell me of your travels, how goes the monster hunting?” Verra interrupts his recollections of their first meeting, sliding a hand down his shoulder and then his arm before taking his hand in hers. Pulling him up with little resistance, she means to lead him to the tub – to let him wash away his woes before her work can truly begin but he stops her and pulls her back towards him, pressing his lips down on hers and cupping her face in his large, pale hands, rough against her skin. The kiss, though short, breathes some fresh life in to him and makes her gasp.

She pushes him away lightly, a playful smile on her lips although her eyes betray her excitement at his touch. “I’d rather you bathed first” she jests, wrinkling her nose and walking away from him with a laugh. 

“Fine” Geralt groans, removing his clothes with no cares about modesty, revealing the ghostly white skin marked with scars. He moves unusually gracefully towards her where she sits, on the side of the full and steaming tub. His dark eyes meet her green ones for a moment where neither speaks, before he climbs in and settles in the warm water, letting out an unintended blissful moan at the feeling of soaking his aching muscles. Verra is sure she could just watch him all day, she’s been fascinated by the witcher since they first met several years ago. He always has an interesting story for her, and for everything she gives to him he gives just as good to her.

The pair talk, catching up like old friends, while he bathes. When she pours them each a drink of cider they toast to each others health with laughter, knowing that one will feel twice the person they currently do by the end of the evening, the other half.

“Clean enough for you now?” Geralt asks, rising from the water as she enthusiastically nods her approval. He looks better for it, even if there’s still no colour to his skin. 

“Perfect. Now come lie down” she tells him, with a kind smile, as he dries himself down quickly. 

His eyes remain on her as she unlaces and slips out of the simple dress leaving only the thin linen, off-white chemise. While she sits patiently on the end of the bed, waiting for him, Geralt considers if he wants to be with her because of her power or in spite of it. What Verra can do, it’s unique. It’s fascinating, but also intimidating. And she could use it for her own advantage, to get in to certain circles, even in to the palace, but she has only ever used it to help. 

Silently, and still naked, Geralt makes his way to her and gets on to the bed. He lies down on his back as she moves to sit besides him and he brings a hand to hers, trailing fingers gently up her arm. He can be incredibly tender-hearted when he wants to be.

“Close your eyes” Verra whispers to him when he lets go of her. “Trust me, Geralt”

“You know I do. I...” he trails off, mind wandering in to some peaceful state when her hands come down to touch his skin. The pulses of vitality flowing from her through to him. He presses his head back in to the pillow, finding pleasure amongst the unusual sensations as her fingers dance in graceful patterns across his body and he feels life, energy, return to him because of her. Warmth, true warmth, spreading across his body with each passing second. He could never get used to this feeling, but he also wishes he could experience it daily. Being able to feel so alive…revived.

Verra herself wouldn’t be able to find any peace whilst the magic wound it’s course from her body and through his veins. With some people it was easy, and others it was so painful she could only administer her gift in small doses. With Geralt there is pain and loneliness, but she also experiences his courage and his determination. The rousing song of goodness that lives in his heart. She sees his memories, even feels in some smalls ways his fears and desires, as her hands continue their work on him. It comes all at once, confusing and overwhelming, and she starts to shake the longer they continue.

Verra pushes through though, as she always does with him. She can tell he’s received all he needs when his memories and thoughts start to fade from her subconscious, left with one passing memory that’s deeply familiar to her; skin-on-skin in another, even more intimate way. She brushes her fingers lightly above his heart before drawing away, breathing heavy with the exertion of the strange sorcery as she lightly coaxes him back to a waking state.

“It’s done, Geralt. Rise. Be” she breathes in to his ear, voice low as she brushes fingers gently through his hair again.

His eyes open slowly, readjusting quickly, and already feeling more rejuvenated than he has in months. He could ride for miles again now but instead of getting up to dress he puts an arm around her and pulls the woman down to lie at his side. Pushing away the loose hairs that have fallen from her untidy braid, he observes her closely for some time with a half smile on his lips. Both silent. She doesn’t say it but he knows she’s drained now, and needs time to recover.

“Rest now, elaine, and let me stay with you until daybreak? It’s your turn to regenerate” 

“Yes” is all she answers with, curling in to him and closing her eyes now, pleased to have him here again even for only a few more hours. They lie there together in silence again, two oddities misunderstood by many, sharing memories and so much more.


End file.
